


Not That Different

by Trash_PandaTO



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Implied/Referenced Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14002428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_PandaTO/pseuds/Trash_PandaTO
Summary: Waverly and Nicole are different in many ways. And in some ways, they are not.This explores some of their insecurities as two sides of the same coin.





	Not That Different

Waverly knows that her and Nicole are different. Where she is bubbly and giddy, Nicole is quiet. Where she is worried and insecure, Nicole is calm and stoic. Where she is prickly and angry, Nicole is sad. Where she holds back and is suspicious, Nicole is all in.

Waverly knows that and learns that. But she also learns that deep down, they aren’t so different after all.

Waverly’s is afraid of people leaving her. As a child, her reaction to the loss and chaos around her is to become the perfect kid. The perfect student, the perfect friend, the perfect child for Gus and Curtis. She doesn’t act out, she doesn’t get in trouble. She has perfect grades, perfect attendance, she smiles and waves for everyone. She hopes it’s enough to convince people to stick with her, to stay.

And she keeps a secret. All those years, she does the research and she plans to break the curse somehow, but she keeps the secret. 

Nicole learns about Waverly’s family in bits and pieces. She shares some basic facts, and keeps the rest vague. And Nicole doesn’t push. Instead, Nicole puts the pieces together one by one, when Waverly is ready to share. 

And it’s not until a lot later that she realizes that Nicole has never said a word about her own family.

There is a secret there, too.

One night, at Nicole’s house, she decides to ask a simple question, and Nicole tenses.

“I don’t talk to my parents. They don’t approve of my ‘lifestyle’.”

Waverly can read her, can hear the clipped tone of that response. She knows not to probe. She knows to leave it at that, for now. 

But she watches. She watches and understands.

Nicole works hard to fit in. To prove that she is no different than the guys at work. To prove that she can protect the town, and protect Waverly. She bites her tongue when speaking out means standing out. She follows the rules. She _is_ the rules. She watches Nicole roll with the punches where others would have run. She watches her work hard to be accepted in this small town where she is new and no one knows her. 

And she watches Nicole go rigid when her world threatens to tilt.

The first time it happens is at the station. Waverly is at the filing cabinet looking for information on a revenant who steals peoples’ breath when she sees Nedley walk up to Nicole’s desk.

“Officer Haught. About the career day at the school…”

“Yes, Sir. I’m just about to head over there. I just wanted to put away these reports. I’ll be on my way in a few minutes.”

“Actually, umm, Nicole. I asked Lonnie to go instead.”

Waverly can see Nicole’s face scrunch in confusion. She can also see how uncomfortable Nedley is in that moment.

“Sir, but Lonnie hates kids.”

“I know. But Decker is on his day off today, so I had to ask Lonnie.”

Nicole doesn’t respond, just frowns.

“Look, Nicole, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say this. There was a…a concern expressed from one of the mother’s at the school. They asked that we send someone other than you to speak to the kids today. I’m sorry.”

Waverly can see realization wash over Nicole’s features, can see a flash of hurt, and then Nicole schools her expression, goes rigid. 

“I understand, Sir.”

“Nicole, trust me, I tried talking to her. I don’t like this either.”

Waverly watches Nicole hold up a hand, waving off the Sheriff’s concern.

“It’s fine. I get it.”

Waverly herself feels her own pulse quicken and blood rushing through her ears. She is livid. Furious at this mother, at this town, for passing judgement even though they know Nicole, know how good she is. And then, for a moment, she feels her own fears bubbling up, seeping through every cell of her body. If this town can pass judgement on Nicole, on someone who works so hard to serve and protect them, they can also pass the same judgement on her.

By the time she pulls herself out of those thoughts, Nicole is gone from her desk. Her coat is gone. She goes to find Nedley, who tells her that he sent her home.

Waverly runs. She needs to see Nicole, to find a way to reassure and to mend the hurt that she could see written on her face. But she also runs because she worries. She worries that this town will succeed in pushing Nicole away. From her.

She finds Nicole in her backyard in a t-shirt, despite the snow and cold. There is a bucket of old, scuffed up baseballs in front of her and she is hurling them, one by one, at a spot on an old, decrepit shed behind her house.

_Thwack!_

_Thwack!_

_Thwack!_

It’s loud, and Waverly flinches.

She’s not sure when Nicole realizes she’s there, but she must know because in between throws, she suddenly speaks up even though she doesn’t turn to face Waverly.

“I’m such a cliche lesbian. Even now.”

Waverly doesn’t know what to say, so she just steps a little bit closer. Nicole has stopped throwing, and is looking down at one of the balls in her hand. Waverly can see how her shoulders roll from stiff and square to hunched forward. She looks tired, and it breaks Waverly’s heart.

“If you’re here to break up with me, can you just do it quickly?”

Waverly feels the air rush out of her lungs.

Nicole has turned toward her but isn’t looking at her. She’s looking at her hands, at the ball, and looks like a child that’s about to be punished.

“What? No. Nicole, why would I break up with you?”

“Because you’ve seen how people are. How they react. And you don’t deserve that. You deserve better than that.”

At that, Waverly does step forward, into Nicole’s space, but doesn’t touch her, not yet. She steps so close that Nicole has to look up, and Waverly can see tears clinging to Nicole’s lashes.

“Hey.”

Nicole doesn’t respond.

“I’m not here to break up with you.”

“You’re not?”

“No, Nicole. I’m here to make sure you’re okay. I’m here to tell you how angry I am at this town for making you feel the way you do right now. I’m here to tell you I love you.”

“You…you do?”

“I do. You’re a good person, Nicole. The best person. You make me feel loved. And I don’t care what some small minded idiot thinks about that. I love you.”

At that, Nicole looks down at her feet again, and Waverly carefully wraps her arms around her and pulls her down so her face rests against her shoulder. She half expects Nicole to break and sob, but she never does. She is quiet, but lets Waverly hold her anyway.

The next time it happens, Waverly isn’t there to see how it starts. But she can feel it, see it written all over Nicole’s body language. She doesn’t immediately understand, though. 

It’s in the aftermath of her possession, and at first she thinks Nicole is stiff and reserved because of that. And she worries. She worries that when “it” was in control, that she did something, that she hurt Nicole. And she is scared to bring it up, to ask Nicole what’s wrong, because she is worried that this is going to be the thing that finally breaks them. That Nicole will finally leave.

She doesn’t, though. Nicole is still here. And so one evening, when they’re at the Homestead and Wynonna is…somewhere, Waverly pulls Nicole on the couch with her. 

“Nicole?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on?”

She can see how Nicole’s body freezes up, how she stops moving, breath coming out so shallow it almost looks like she’s not breathing at all.

Nicole doesn’t answer.

“I can see that something is bothering you. I can see it in how you hold yourself, how you go from soft and gentle to rigid. You’ve barely even looked at me since…since that night in the barn.”

Nicole is looking at her now, caution in her eyes.

“Wave…”

“Did I do something? When, when I wasn’t in control, did I do something? Did I hurt you?”

The words are barely audible, and Waverly braces herself.

“What? No. No, Waverly. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I did, though. I threw you into the pile of metal in the barn that night.”

“Okay, but that…wasn’t you. And you’re you now. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Then what’s going on, Nicole? I can see you’re not okay. Please tell me.”

Nicole looks at her hands and starts to rub her fingers over a spot on her thumb. Waverly knows she does that when she’s nervous and when she’s trying to find the right words.

“You know that I would never ask you to be someone you’re not, right? That it’s okay to…to want different things?”

Waverly frowns. She has no idea where this is going.

“Yes, I know. But, I don’t understand, where is this coming from?”

“Wynonna…or, not Wynonna, but the thing, when it was in her. She said something. And I just need, I need you to know that I’m not expecting anything. That you are you, and I would never want it any other way.”

Waverly stays silent. She wants Nicole to have the space she needs to say what’s on her mind. She does put her hand on her thigh, squeezing gently to encourage her to continue.

“She, umm, she said that I’m pressuring you. To settle. To be a family. Picket fence and all. And that that’s not what you want.”

Waverly sighs, and wants to say something, but Nicole continues.

“You know that all I want is for you to be happy, right? And if you need me to…to back off, to keep this more casual, then all you have to do is tell me. You know that, yeah?”

“Nicole…”

“No, I mean it. If I’ve somehow pushed you into something that, a path you don’t want, that you’re not ready for, I never want to do that, Waverly.”

“You haven’t…”

“All you have to do is tell me. I can back off. I can…I can give you space, if you need space. We don’t have to be, we can work out something…”

“Nicole! Stop!”

Waverly now firmly grabs her hands, both of them, and squeezes hard.

“Nicole. No. I don’t want you to back off. I don’t need space. Possessed Wynonna was an asshole. Hell, non-possessed Wynonna is an asshole more often than not, and she doesn’t know what I need or want. I need you. I don’t want you to back off.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I want you right here, with me. You’re my family, Nicole. I mean, Wynonna is, too. And Gus. And I guess Doc and Dolls and Jeremy. But you are, too. And I want it to continue. You’re my family. And I’m yours.”

She watches Nicole’s body lose some of its stiffness, watches her face go slack. And she knows, feels how Nicole wraps herself around that one word with her entire soul:

Family.


End file.
